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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24393982">cotton candy hope</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/pseuds/lavenderlotion'>lavenderlotion</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Glee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Awkwardness, Bad Flirting, M/M, Pre-Canon, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, mentions of bullying</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:20:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>997</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24393982</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/pseuds/lavenderlotion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“David?” he asked instinctively, going with his gut as he only had a passing idea as to who this boy was. </p><p>“Y-you know my name?” David asked him with a flush climbing onto his cheeks that had Kurt’s already racing heart kicking up into overdrive.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kurt Hummel/David Karofsky</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>87</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>cotton candy hope</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>just a little thing as i avoid all my other writing responsibilities</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kurt was quickly packing his bag as he eyed the hallway around him, making sure it was still devoid of knuckle-headed <em> assholes </em> who didn’t know fashion from football and insisted on ruining his outfits with crude dyes and artificial flavouring that masqueraded as icy drinks. He got his textbook tucked securely into his satchel and, thank Mama Monster, checked to see that the hallways were still empty. Waiting in the lady's washroom for an hour and a half after the final bell was a little boring, sure, but it meant that there wouldn’t be anyone still hanging around when he finally left. </p><p>Closing his locker gently—just in case there <em> were </em> a few students still hanging around—he quickly secured the lock before lifting the bag of his strap over his shoulder. He could feel his phone tucked securely away in his front-pant pocket— <em> much </em> less likely to be taken and then destroyed—and didn’t waste another moment before he quickly set off down the hall and towards the front doors. </p><p>“Kurt!”</p><p>The unexpected shout from a male voice—and of his <em> name </em> instead of some derogatory slur— had Kurt slowing to a halt, heart beating against his ribs nervously. He turned on his heel, eyes going cartoonishly wide as he saw a boy, one he was certain was in his grade, dressed in a sports jersey and jeans with dripping-wet hair and a towel over one shoulder, backpack over the other. </p><p>The boy was rushing up to him, taking long, quick strides that <em> should </em> have made Kurt want to flee in the other direction. Instead, he felt rooted to his spot under the strength of warm, kind-looking eyes that Kurt found himself getting more and more lost in the closer the taller boy got. What...</p><p>“David?” he asked instinctively, going with his gut as he only had a passing idea as to who this boy was. </p><p>“Y-you know my name?” David asked him with a flush climbing onto his cheeks that had Kurt’s already racing heart kicking up into overdrive. </p><p>Kurt nodded, not quite sure what to say in response. A boy was <em> blushing </em> because Kurt had known his name? He wracked his memory and did his very best to recall a single interaction between him and the heavily-breathing boy in front of him and found nothing other than a shared French class the previous semester, wherein Kurt sat at the front so he could be the first out the door and David sat somewhere near the back. </p><p>“Can I help you with something?” Kurt asked as politely as he could. He wrapped both hands around his satchel’s strap to stop them from shaking. </p><p>“Oh! Right... uhm, so I was sorta wondering if like, maybe you’d, ya know... sometime, maybe, wanna go out?” David asked him. His cheeks were the same shade of red as his jersey. Kurt stared at him with his mouth working but no words coming out, wondering when he’d entered an alternate reality. No way had a boy just asked him out on a date, right? “You totally don’t have to! Oh god, this was such a dumb idea, wasn’t it? Ya know what, never mind, it’s totally okay!”</p><p>David started to turn away, his cheek an impressively flushed red, his eyes shining and stuck resolutely on the tiled floor, and looking for all the worlds like a kicked puppy. Since Kurt wasn’t averting his eyes in fear of every boy even vaguely jock-shaped and could actually take his time to look at him, he realized that David was...</p><p>Gaga, he was <em> adorable. </em> </p><p>“David,” Kurt whispered, reaching out and wrapping his fingers around David’s wrist. “What would this “going out” entail?”</p><p>David’s entire frame seemed to deflate as if his wires had been cut before it filled right back up. Before Kurt’s eyes, his shoulders squared, his back straightened and his chest puffed out. Kurt giggled just a little, and found he rather liked the beaming smile David had stretched across his face. “Uh, so I didn’t really get that far in the planning stages ‘cause I wasn’t expecting you to say yes? But I know that you go bowling with your dad—<em> not </em> in a creepy stalker way, I swear, I just <em> also </em> go bowling with my dad too and I’ve seen you there a few times—so maybe we could do that and split one of the pizzas there? Or maybe you don’t eat pizza? I’m pretty sure they have other food too? Maybe we could go on a picnic! That could be fun. I just... can’t really afford to take you to Breadstix.”</p><p>A flash of something that looked an awful lot like shame curled over David’s face. Kurt’s fingers tightened around his wrist and he felt something like hope, fragile and sticky-sweet, bubble up his chest. “That’s alright. I can take you?”</p><p>David’s eyes went comically wide—they really were a very warm shade of brown—and his cheeks started to flush again. He started nodding in what looked more like an impression of a bobblehead than an answer, and said, “That sounds <em> amazing. </em> Can I walk you to the bus stop?”</p><p>Kurt bit in the inside of his cheek and ran through all the horrible, heartbreaking ways that this could go wrong. It really could all be a trick of some sort. David could be teasing him, or he could be trying to lead him out to a crowd of jocks waiting to beat him up. <em> He </em> could be the one waiting to beat Kurt up. </p><p>But, as he looked at the handsome smile stretching his lips and the dimples on his cheeks, Kurt had to admit to himself that he really, <em> really </em> wanted to believe he was telling the truth. So, with his fingers sliding down the warm skin of David’s inner wrist until he could interlace their fingers together, he said, “I’d love that,” and let himself melt into the cotton-candy hope filling his limbs. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>come say hi to me on <a href="https://lavender-lotion.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a>!</p><p>kudos are much appreciated, but things have been really difficult lately, and a comment, as short and sweet or as sprawling and sporadic as you can manage, would be <em>greatly</em> appreciated!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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